Bent
by Chanceless
Summary: First installment in A Comedy of Errors. The characters of Teen Titans are thrown into the land of television and trapped inside an urban rock opera!
1. Prologue

Hey there! Chancey here (what else is new?), and this time, NOT with a oneshot! It's a miracle!  
Anyway, this was spawned a while ago in P.E. with **ringbearinggreasergal**. It took me a while to finally get inspired enough to start writing it, but here it is! Boredom is quite the poweful motivator.  
This is only the prologue. I promise, it will get more crossover-y and parody-like in the following chapters.

* * *

Arkham Asylum. 

The good news: With all the villains being busted and apprehended with every passing episode, and with so few managing to break out, the staff was being forced to cram as many as five inmates in one itsy-bitsy cell at a time. As a result, loneliness was an ailment seldom occurring.

The bad news: No T.V. Not a single television to be found for a dozen cell blocks. Thus resulting in a very cranky couch potato.

* * *

"Rick, the fatso in cell 14 is acting up again." 

The addressed belched over at the speaker and scratched his belly.

"So? His roommates'll deal with him."

His lanky uniformed friend placed his hands on his hips and cocked an eyebrow. "They can't touch him, Rick. We had to move him into a padded cell with a few other guys."

Rick groaned as he got to his feet, reluctant to leave his comfy lounge chair. He sauntered off sulkily toward the cell block, mumbling about lazy guards.

"Cell 14," he narrated off the slip of paper by the panel of the cell. "Control Freak, Slade Wilson, Jumbo, and Dr. Light. Fatso…" He peered inside, and immediately identified his target. The only one without a strait jacket (or, in Slade's case, a Hannibal Lector costume), the red-haired midget was bouncing on the top bunk, screaming something at the top of his lungs.

"Oy vey." Rick cautiously opened the panel.

"—IWANNATV! INEEDATV! PLEEAAAAAAASE KILL ME NOW IF YOU WON'T GIVE ME A TV!11!!112!!111oneeleven!" At this part, the author grew tired of writing out capitals by hand and decided to have Slade interrupt.

So he did.

"That can be arranged," he snarled, his eye narrowed.

Although the prison guard had confiscated all of his fancy gadgets and uniform from the 2003-2006 animated show, they graciously gave him his old comic costume apparel of sexy white hair, an eyepatch, and pretty disco-esque orange boots and gloves to go with his new Arkham uniform.

However, most of the content of the above paragraph is irrelevant, because he's wearing a stylish Anthony Hopkins getup. Moving on.

Slade's oh-so-chilling eye turned to the guard in the doorway, as did the eyes of the other three inmates. At this, Control Freak realized this was an opportunity to get attention and maybe the thing he wanted most, so he attempted to climb down from the bunk and failed—instead plummeting to an ungraceful belly flop on the padded floor.

"Mr. Guard, sir…if you would be so kind to oblige me one little request?"

"For the last time, man. NO! You've been asking nonstop since you got here for a damn TV, and every. Damn. Time. You get the same answer, so just cool it."

"Easy for _you_ to say!" Control Freak (who apparently has no real name, along with Mumbo Jumbo and Dr. Light) accused, jabbing a finger at the guard before him.

"You get all the food you want, all the time, a gazillion channels in your fancy _lounge,_ and—" At this point, genuine, fat tears began to roll down the maniac's equally chubby cheeks.

"Please, man!"

His cell mates groaned.

"Here we go," Slade muttered, 'cause he's the only witty, talkative one of the bunch in this fanfiction.

IN his melodramatic plea for an appliance, Control Freak rolled about, pounding the floor mercilessly with his fists and feet.

"Please, _please, PLEASE!_"

This went on for some time until Slade, desperate for some peace and quiet, attempted suicide by tipping his rolly-cage-thingee over face first. However, as the floor was padded, this did nothing except muffle any further protests he might voice.

With some difficulty due to his jacket, Dr. Light pushed himself up from his bunk and unsteadily walked to the guard, where he sank to his knees beside the greasy maniac.

"Please, man. Either put him out of his misery, or give him his goddamn TV so we can all have some peace."

"Well," said Rick-the-OC-security-guard, pondering his options. "Despite the fact that two naughty words have already been used in this fanfiction, it is still a fanfiction based after a childrens' television show. And because of this, we're not allowed to put anyone out of their misery.

I'll call for a TV."

And cell 14 was filled with much rejoicing. Even Slade did not bite as he was returned to his upright position.

* * *

Later, the cafeteria was filled with much rejoicing, because Control Freak was not there to devour half of the edible contents available.

"So," greeted a jail-hardened, ghetto Madam Rouge as she sat beside Slade. "What are you in for?"

"Raping a 16-year-old boy, murdering said 16-year-old boy in an alternate universe several years later, and murdering my Alfred-like butler who only appeared in _Final Exam_ and then vanished _because_ I murdered him. All but the last one happened in a British girl's fanfiction."

"Ah," said Madam Rouge empathetically, her hand snaking inside the bars of the cell and resting on Slade's cage where his thigh would be. "You poor thing. I'm in cell 142 if you ever need someone to talk to."

Slade grunted in response as the timer beeped, signaling the end of Madam Rouge's visit and the beginning of Mother Mae Eye's, because all the show's creepy ladies wanted to get jiggy with him.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Rick excused, shoving Mother out of the way and peering inside cell 14. "Mr. Freak? Mail call for you from your mother."

The addressed, face and chest covered in drool, turned from the 9-millionth re-run of _High School Musical_. His dull eyes lit up. "Mommy?!"

Like a little boy on Christmas, he snatched the package from the omnipotent security guard's hands, darted back to his precious television and ripped the package open.

* * *

"Man," Robin sighed blissfully as he sat on the roof with the rest of his team. "It's been so quiet since we cleared all the bad guys from Jump City." He popped a grape into his mouth. "I mean, really. When was the last time we actually had a picnic on the roof of our home?"

"Never," droned Raven, who was meditating, as usual.

Starfire squirted mustard onto whatever she was eating, as usual.

Cyborg was too busy confessing his undying love to Starfire's Mumbo-Jumbo alarm clock to pay attention to the conversation at hand, and Beast Boy…

…Was too busy staring, jaw-dropped, at a plume of rising smoke in the distance.

"Dudes," he said, 'cause that _has_ to be what he says at the beginning of every fanfiction, "Please tell me that's not the exact location of Arkham Asylum."

The Tower's sirens blared.

"Titans!" cried Robin, leaping to his feet. "G—"  
But he suddenly choked on a grape. Starfire had to give him the Heimlich Maneuver, but in doing so ruptured his spleen with her super-strength, so Raven had to fix it with her sparkly blue healing powers, but in doing _that_ discovered that Robin had a tumor in his epididymis .

And that was how the Teen Titans managed to find a cure for cancer.

Many hours later, Robin yelled "Go," and as per usual the Teen Titans soared off to the scene of the crime to find—

--absolute chaos.

Every known hero and villain from the 2003-2006 animated series (and then some, including the primary characters from DC comics) was facing off on the Ground Zero that used to be Arkham Asylum.

Robin immediately zeroed in on Slade and went after him.

Cyborg, disgusted, hurled Starfire's alarm clock at Mumbo Jumbo. "I can't believe toy companies waste time in making merchandise of _you_!"

Mumbo simply cackled and brandished his want, failing to wonder how it had gotten there—much less how it regenerated after Robin had snapped it in half in _The Sum of His Parts_.  
"Wingardium leviosa!" he cried, and Cyborg relived his "flyborg" persona once again.

Raven faced off against Trigon, who had somehow managed to fit in a jail cell after Raven kicked his ass back in _The End: Part 3_.  
"Raaaawr!" Her eyebrows turned into a secondd pair of slanted crimson eyes, and then all of the other Ravens had to show up and kick Trigon's ass again like in _Nevermore._

Rorek and Malchior made out in a corner.  
So did Mas y Menos, 'cause incestual slash is just so sexy.  
Just to join the lovefest, Chanceless jumped in and grabbed some version of Robin. She found herself making out with Nosyarg Drahcir, shrugged, and decided she didn't mind.

Beast Boy scouted Terra out and magically melted her granite state, then convinced her to remember everything of their past, leaving out he parts that occurred in _Betrayal, Aftershock: Part 1_ and _Aftershock: Part 2_.

Starfire and Blackfire fought for about twenty seconds until Aqualad decided he though sisters were hot and went after them both; then they had a threesome in the corner with Malchior, Rorek, Mas y Menos, Chanceless and Nosyarg Kcid.

In another dark and mysterious corner, Robin and Slade couldn't decide whether they wanted to kill each other or make love.

Bumblebee and Jinx found they shared a fetish for mechanics, and joined the orgy in the first corner.

Above the chaos, Control Freak crowed in triumph. "Thank you, Mother!"  
In his hand was clutched another of his treasured remotes. He aimed said remote at the fray below.  
"Good-bye, Titans! Good-bye, inconsiderate A-list villains! Say Hello to Starz, Encore, HBO and Cable for me!"

"Look out!" Robin shrieked, but was distracted from the impending doom when the author forced him into yet another slashy lemon.

And then they all vanished. As a tumbleweed rolled past, only the solitary sound of maniacal cackling colored the deserted scene.

* * *

Oh. Yeah.  
Shameless plug to **RobinRocks**' _awesome _TT trilogy in which Robin gets raped and murdered by Slade in an alternate universe. 

Now. I have three more decent chapters written out, just waiting to be typed up.  
However, I will not type them up unless I get some decent reviews, because I need to know that there are people who will actually be _reading_ the stuff I write. So.  
Like it, love it, hate it? TELL ME, and I'll update. :3 Toodles!

-Chance


	2. Self Insertion: 1

OO Wow. I got four reviews in one day! 8D I seriously wasn't expecting to get that many so soon.

Now, for the thank yous:  
**Sigilstorm**, do I know you? O-o Thanks so much for the review! Yeah, the first chapter was supposed to be all "WTF" anyway, so I'm glad I achieved the desired reaction. **Still Sketchin'**, I'm glad you liked this, because you're appearing in this one as a premiered self-insert author (_thank you_, RobinRocks, for giving me the idea to insert myself and other authors. > Glare), and after this, you'd better still like it. **PanamaRoxMySox**--usually, I have to wait WEEKS for reviews. xD I'm surprised I got so many this soon. So I decided to follow RobinRocks' example and threaten y'all. Thank you! I enjoyed putting that little SladexMadame Rouge segment in there. **Candace**, however monosyllabic your review was, it was still a review, so thanks.  
And, lastly, to **RobinRocks** and **ringbearinggreasergal** (whenever you guys get here), this is for you. Happy birthday, Lor!

Self-Insertion #1

* * *

"So, do you think Razzle Dazzle Raven would look better on my toenails, or Fire Engine Starfire?" Chanceless held both of the mentioned nail polishes for RobinRocks to survey.  
"I don't know," The British female pondered, selecting another nail polish from the bunch. "I'm partial to Slade's Shiny Orange, myself."

Chanceless made a face. She turned to ringbearinggreasergal and Still Sketchin'. "What do you guys think?"  
Sketch was still far too busy staring in awe at the coolest British fanfiction author _ever_ to respond.  
Greasergal shrugged. "Whatever. Credits are almost done rolling anyway, and we're gonna have to do our little piece before and after commercial breaks, so choose it fast."

"Which reminds me " Chanceless said, standing. "Are the actors ready to go on?"  
RobinRocks stood as well. "You guys hold down the fort. I'll go check."

"Hey, welcome back. We hope you enjoyed that presentation of _An Inconvenient Truth_. Next on Multi-Genre Monday is the Rock opera crowning the turn of the century—_Rent_!

Cue the biographies.

This instant classic originally starred favorite actors such as Adam Pascal, Anthony Rapp, Idina Menzel, Jesse Martin, Taye Diggs, and Rosario Dawson—to name a few.  
While you enjoy this, the girls and I are—"

An earsplitting shriek interrupted Chanceless' monologue. However, the author was not alarmed. She simply smiled deviously at the camera. "I guess RobinRocks has discovered Greasergal's early birthday present "

RobinRocks raced onscreen, eyes bulging in panic. "The characters…the characters…"

"Have been crossed over!" Chanceless finished proudly. "Please enjoy our Multi-Genre Monday screening of _**BENT**_."

* * *

Confused? Remember _Episode 257-494_, when Control Freak trapped the Titans in the TV? Same shtick; only this time, they have to live through the _entire_ show.  
And if you're annoyed by the self-insertions, then just skip these chapters (which will be conveniently labeled _Self Insertion: #_) and move on to the actual plotty stuff.  
Review, dearies, and I'll udpate soon again!

-Chance 


	3. Cutscene

Ohhhmygod, you guys I'm _so_ sorry I've gone this long without an update! My original intention was to post this a week after Self-Insertion 1, I swear! D:

Anyhoo. On with the thank-yous.  
**RobinRocks,** WHENEVER YOU GET YOUR BRITISH BUTT OVER TO THIS STORY, I hope I put you enough in-character in the out-of-character scene. Lawl.  
**Ringbearingreasergal**, I know how you feel. It's how every one of us feels whenever we read each other's writings about ourselves, right? We're all like, "OMG, MEMEMEMEME. ? Who cares about ? Psh. I want to hear more about ME!"  
**PanamaRoxMySox**, you are _so_ welcome, and yes, I know exactly how you feel. I nearly died of shame last night upon reading a Post-Hallows _Harry Potter_ fanfic THAT DIDN'T HAVE ANY PUNCTUATION WHATSOEVER. D8 It puts the world of authors to shame. I mean, honestly. HOW HARD IS IT TO LOOK AT YOUR SCREEN AND SEE THE LITTLE GREEN JAGGY LINES UNDERNEATH YOUR FRAGMENTS? It's not that difficult. It annoys me to no end and I must fix my errors. Growl The beatings will continue until morale improves. Anyway, yes. Aside from that, Thank you so much for coming back and reviewing again! 8D I'm so glad that I have someone other than my IRL friends coming back to this! Dances around

* * *

Because this awesomeified version of a Broadway musical was "uncut" (thus meaning that Chanceless took the liberty of inserting a scene), the opening scene was not, as expected, seven bums (and Benny) on a stage in front of a million empty chairs. 

No, sirree.

Instead, it displayed the gruesome, long-awaited portrayal of a bathroom suicide.

As the camera panned from one wall to the other, it showed one ivory pale hand, in which was clutched a paper, on which was an elaborate explanation narrowing down to one vital piece of information.

**HIV Positive.**

Even through the spraying of blood was nonexistent in cases of wrist-slitting suicide, Raven was covered in it.

Blood was everywhere. In fact, it was like a second, blood red skin (despite the _obvious_ fact that blood is _not_ always "blood red").

In short, Raven was dead. And she'd left a big, bloody mess for whoever found her to clean up, which said a _lot_ about her character (as though the fact that she'd committed suicide didn't say enough).

* * *

Slade's sleek SUV pulled up on the road's shoulder and the five exited: Slade, Cyborg, Robin, Beast Boy and Terra, who were passionately slobbering all over each other. 

Suddenly, all five stopped, slowly turned to each other and double-taked.

Robin had a guitar slung over his shoulder. His hair was still spiked, but it was cropped closer to his scalp. He still wore his mask (the costume people hadn't been able to pry it off), but the rest of his uniform was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a green jacket over a light cotton sweater. And jeans. In place of his steel-toed boots of fury that inspired a foot fetish in many a fangirl was a pair of slightly battered tennis shoes.

Terra's hair had been curled stylishly. She wore a dress made out of a tablecloth that had been mass-produced at The GAP. And slightly battered tennis shoes.

Cyborg had on a smoky blue beanie. And a big trench coat over a plaid shirt and—you guessed it—jeans and battered tennis shoes.

However, Slade was by far the most terrifying.

In place of his mask was a pair of sunglasses, with the left lens removed. He wore an enormous blue parka over baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt. And slightly battered tennis shoes. Nike, though—not Sketchers, as was per usual with the other four.

But before any of them could comment, an invisible force called "The Cue Monster" pushed them all toward the loft. Beast Boy and Terra resumed slobbering because neither really seemed to mind the current situation (it wasn't much different from the one they had left a few seconds prior).

* * *

"Um...Roger?" Terra called (while wondering where _that_ name had come from) quiveringly, unable to tear her gaze from the horrifying, gruesome, macabre, dismaying, mortifying, bloody, and adjective-excessive scene on the bathroom floor. 

Robin, hearing his not-name called, trotted over to Terra. He followed her gaze to the sickening, ugly yet somehow disturbingly beautiful, deathly, coppery, unforgettable sight of the empath laying in a big pool of her own blood.

"Oh, god...April," he choked (while wondering why he'd just called Raven that), falling to his knees. "Oh, god...Oh, _god_."

Terra gingerly stepped inside and plucked the note from Raven's hand. "She left you a note...scrawled in her own blood."

She stepped back out of the bathroom and handed the document to Robin. On the back of the results sheet, the note read _**We've got AIDS**_.

"Ooh," Slade gaped. "That sucks."

"I think we should see other people," Terra suddenly confessed to Beast Boy in the other room, then ran off, wondering why the _hell_ she had just done that.

* * *

There you have it, folks. My first update since I returned from California (which, by the way, was an utter disaster until the last week; if you want to ask me about it, REVIEW. :3), and again, I'm so very sorry for those of you who were waiting on me!

I hope my new oneshot will compensate for my absence.


	4. Self Insertion: 2

Yes, yes, I know. I'm a nerd. Like I said; you can all SKIP AHEAD IF YOU DON'T LIKE SELFINSERTIONOMGLAWL.

* * *

"What have you done?!" RobinRocks screeched, unable to tear her gaze from the resurrected empath. 

Chanceless shrugged. "_I_ didn't do anything. _I_ just so happened to observe that there was a crisis happening in the depths of Cartoon Network. I saw an opportunity, and I seized it."

Raven glared.

Ringbearinggreasergal blinked. "So...how do we put them back?"

"_Um._"

Sketch groaned. "You don't _know_?"

"Of _course_ I don't know! _I'm_ not the one who got them here in the _first_ place."

RobinRocks poked Raven, who glared and said nothing. Still. Because the author didn't want her to.

However, she did manage to break a conveniently placed, horrifyingly ugly lamp in the corner with her awesome, deadly, dangerous, destructive, demonic, dark, differentiating telekinesis.

* * *

Short and sweet. We have kidnapped Raven! RAWR! You'll never get her back, Titans! Cackles 


	5. Commercial Break: 1

Wow, I went a long while without updating again. Sorry, guys! Dx  
I have a sickening feeling that this is going to be one of those stories that I have fun with, then get tired of and refuse to continue. However, I'm hoping that's not the case--because I've been having _way_ too much fun writing all of this.

So, yes, on with the thank-yous to my loyal reviewers...

**Still Sketchin'**, I have absolutely no clue what we are going to do to Raven while we have her in our clutches, but I'm sure it will involve many questions about where the hell Beast Boy, Robin, Starfire, and Cyborg went in _Fear Itself_. **PanamaRoxMySox**, I know exactly what you mean. You should see my many rants on LiveJournal about my loathing for people who CANNOT TYPE OUT THEIR GODDAMN WORDS. It drives me crazy. D'8 **Ringbearingreasergal,** it's spelled _narcissistic_, buddy. After that Greek dude, Narcissus...I'm sure Still Sketchin' and I still have many bad dreams about last year's Honors English. TT

**ROBINROCKS,** WHERE ARE YOU? TT

Now, on with the very first commercial break! YAY!

* * *

All characters were present in the break room—except, of course, Raven, whom everyone assumed was dead.

"_What_ is going on?" Robin demanded, frantically searching around for his usual traffic light attire.

"Beast me," Cyborg muttered distastefully as his 'Stone' skin as seen in _Wavelength_ dissolved to his usual sparkly computeriffic appearance. "But I'm me again."

Terra desperately attempted to straighten her curls, but to no avail. "Beast Boy, I'm sorry for breaking up with you. I didn't mean it!"

Beast Boy sulked, because not only had he been dumped, but he was still green and had not been 'normalfied' like Cyborg had.

Speedy sauntered over. "Robby. Any ideas as to how we get out of here?"

Robin placed his hands on his hips. "'Here' being this room, or 'here' being this whacked up universe?"

"Either or both. Whichever comes first."

"No."

"Oh."

_**Zap!**_

Beast Boy, Robin, Cyborg and Slade vanished. 

* * *

Haha. It's short. Neiner-neiner-neiner. 3 And I refuse to update to the next lengthy plotwise chapter until y'all REVIEWZ, PRECIOUS! Yes, Sketch, that includes you. I don't _care_ if you read the illegal beta copy weeks before this is posted--YOU STILL HAVE TO REVIEW. [

Toodles for now! 


	6. Of Rent and Nasty Little Boys

AAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Oh, my GOD, you guys! I'm sosososososososososo sorry I haven't updated! I've had these chapters written forEVER! ...Don't know why I didn't post them. Now, let's see if I have enough time to write up review thank-yous before the bell rings and I have to go take that stupid Standardized State Test.  
Uhm...who all reviewed? Besides the normal people who are already included in the self insertions here, thanks to **Geojas378** for asking me to update, even though it took me four months after asked to do so until I actually did...bah.  
Anyway, as my apologies, here's THREE chapter updates! HURRAH! Sorry it took so long. I'll do better next time, I promise!

* * *

It was freezing

It was _freezing_. That was the first observation Beast Boy made as he wound the funky little video camera that had suddenly appeared in his hands.

"December 24th, 9p.m., Eastern Standard Time."

Robin, while tuning his guitar (badly, mind you, as he had no idea how to play one), turned to Beast Boy with his eyes bulging and jaw dropped. Beast Boy...was _singing_.

"From here on in I shoot without a script. See if anything comes of it—instead of my old shit."

_Wha--?_ This wasn't like Beast Boy at all..."First shot: Roger, tuning the fender guitar he hasn't played in a year."

_Haven't played in sixteen years. _Instead, he said, "This won't tune!" Oh, so it _wasn't_ him that sucked?

"So we hear," Beast Boy retaliated casually, then announced to his camera, "He's just coming back from half a year of withdrawal."

Withdrawal? As in, _drugs_ withdrawal? Wow, this version of him _sucked_. "Are you talkin' to me?"

"Not at all!"

This silly, scripted banter went on for some time until the phone rang. The first time, it was Mad Mod, claiming to be "Mark's" mother (we can only assumed by now that "Mark" is Beast Boy).

Then it was Cyborg, singing a distorted Christmas carol. Shortly after, Cyborg was somehow mugged on his way over. Then the phone rang _again_, and it was Robin's favorite love-hate target.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Not nearly as jolly as the greeting implied, Slade brooded on his end of the line. He did not approve of this situation.

Then they all got in a fight over Robin and Beast Boy paying Slade rent, then they all broke into song and were joined by the rest of the cast for the rest of the song.

Once they had gotten the point across that they were not going to pay this year's, last year's or next year's rent, those to whom it applied suddenly vanished and left behind a battered Cyborg.

And then there was Gizmo. In a dress and stilettos.

"You okay, honey?" greeted the midget pleasantly, against every other instinct within him.

Cyborg limped back as fast as he could limp in the direction _away_ from the freaky little nasty boy in drag. Oh, yes. _He_ knew where this was going.

"I'm afraid so." And, what the hell? He was singing again.

So they unwillingly flirted in rhyme, shared the fact that they both had AIDS (_'We do?!'_) and set off for Gizmo's apartment after establishing that Cyborg was to be addressed as "Collins" and Gizmo as "Angel" (at this, every Teen Titans fan snickered due to the irony).

Back at the loft, Beast Boy announced that he was going to find Cyborg, instructed a still-brooding Robin to take his AZT, and set off on his futile quest.

Robin continued to brood and was interrupted by...

...the 80's comic version of Starfire. Or, at least, the 2003-2006 animated version of Starfire _cosplaying_ as the 80's comic version.

Her cherry boobs had flattened somewhat, and her amazing Tamaranean tan and muscles were gone. And she was shorter than Robin, who had acquired go-go boots and was now roughly seven feet tall—a technical error to be worked out in the next commercial break.

She asked him oh-so-sensually if he could light her candle; he obliged while stating that he'd seen her before—but where?

They continued to flirt shamelessly and sensually, often repeating sequences of the previous paragraph, and in doing this established that Starfire was a drug addict, a stripper, and to be addressed as "Mimi."

Then she left, leaving behind a very horny, very drool-coated Robin.

Beast Boy came back to find Robin brooding because he was still going through withdrawal and hadn't gotten any.


	7. Self Insertion: 3

"So...Raven," Chanceless began, snatching a certain elderly wizard's half-moon-shaped spectacles from another fandom and placing them accordingly on her own nose.

The empath glared venomously, levitating cross-legged, across from her tormentor, an unbreakable alien-technology collar around her neck, an equally unbreakable red laser rope connecting Raven to a socket in the floor.

Chanceless organized her lengthy stack of papers she had assembled during the last segment and began her assault. "Would you consider yourself Goth or Emo? Or Punk? Do you _really_ listen to Evanescence as much as Fanfiction would imply? Where _exactly_ did Beast Boy, Robin, Starfire and Cyborg (in that order) disappear to in _Fear Itself_? How come Tara Strong voiced Starfire in _Switched_ instead of keeping the voices the same when your voice actress is _clearly_ talented enough to handle Raven-with-the-Starfire-personality, as is demonstrated in _Nevermore_? How come your powers didn't go all out of whack when you first met Aqualad in _Deep Six_, but did in _Divide and Conquer_ when Cyborg ditched the team? Would you prefer Robin or Beast Boy in bed? Do you have any romantic relationship whatsoever with the enigmatic "Goth Boy"? _Do_ you like show tunes? If Blackfire was so clearly evil in _Sisters_, how come you didn't sense the bad vibes coming off of her? If Terra was so clearly evil in _Titan Rising_, how come her bad vibes didn't send warning bells through your head even _after_ she'd done the whole 'I TRUST YOU OMG' thing?"

RobinRocks, ringbearingreasergal, and Still Sketchin' sat off to one side, piles of money between them.

"Fifty bucks says that Raven will die from inquisition overload," Sketch announced.

Greasergal cocked an eyebrow. "Seventy says that she'll blow up the studio when she can't handle it anymore."

RobinRocks smiled thinly. "I bet you all one thousand pounds that Raven doesn't know the answers to any of her questions."

She was met with two stares of shocked disbelief.  
"What?" the supremely awesome Fanfiction author retorted. "She only knows what the scriptwriters tell her to know. _Duh._"

Sketch and Greasergal hugged each other tightly, tears streaming down their faces. "How can you _say_ such a thing?" cried Sketch in anguish, clearly beaten down by the heathen declaration her idol had just made.

"...Because it's true."

By now, Chanceless had moved on to more miscellaneous questions. "What's your favorite candle scent? What's _really_ your favorite color? Are you still a virgin? What's your cup size? What conditioner do you use? How many showers are there in the Tower? Have you ever been to school? How are you so smart? What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you think of your Cartoon Network rival, Buttercup? How do you feel that your own voice actress voices Buttercup's teammate? What's your favorite TV show? How do you feel about all the horrid Fanfictions alluding you to Edgar Allen Poe's works? Have you ever really considered redecorating? What brand of mascara do you use? Could you fix my iPod with your telekinesis? Could you fix my _DVD_ player with your telekinesis? What is the scientific explanation for your telekinesis? Can you read my thoughts? Are you afraid of the light? How come you never wear anything but your leotard and cloak? Do you ever wash that thing? If so, wouldn't that mean that you walk around naked because you have nothing else to wear? And wouldn't that result in multiple pregnancies? How many abortions have you had? Would you ever partake in a romantic relationship with Cyborg? Why did you help Cyborg rebuild his car by hand instead of just reconstructing it with your telekinesis? Would you rather read Stephen King or Karin Slaughter? Is your skin really ivory, or is it just _reaaaally_ pale? "

"Damn," Greasergal and RobinRocks hissed in unison as Sketch scooped her earnings toward her.


	8. Tango: Bumblebee?

Tango

**Tango...Bumblebee?  
**

"What a way to spend _Christmas_," Beast Boy muttered to himself. He fumbled around in his flimsy coat pocket for a key, which he extracted and jammed into the lock of the warehouse door. But once he pushed on the door, even a little, it swung open: whoever was already inside had forgotten to lock the door behind them. Beast Boy bit his lip against the reproach that rose to mind—_Did Joanne even __**know**__ how valuable the effects equipment was in here?_—and strode in, this time attending to what Terra's latest lover had neglected.

The wide, crudely made stage ahead of him was already dimly lit, lame fluorescent light struggling down to illuminate the brisk suit and tie-clad figure cussing quietly to herself, her back turned to him. Beast Boy's eyes immediately went to the transparent wings on her back. _Bee?_ What was she doing here? And where was Joanne?

So damn _awkward_... Beast Boy scuffed the heel of his sneaker on the concrete floor, resulting in a disproportionately loud shriek. He winced at the sound, but at least it had gotten Bumblebee's attention, as she now whirled around to face him, recognition immediately replacing the startled shock, but then changing completely into utter confusion.  
"_Mark?_"

_Oh, no_. Beast Boy groaned inwardly, frowning at the subject and hoping to _God_ that she wasn't who he thought she was. "_Joanne?_"

Bumblebee looked as though she wanted to say something else, but was jerked into song: "I told her not to call you!"

Beast Boy shrugged helplessly. Yeah, well, Terra was probably as thrilled about this as the two of them were. He only hoped they could get out of this before they all went completely _insane._  
"That's Maureen," he excused. "...But can I help while I'm here?"

And before he knew it, Beast Boy was tangoing. With Bumblebee. Beast Boy hadn't even known he _could_ tango, much less well enough not to kill his partner in the process. Hm. Well, you learned something new every day. He was suddenly aware of a nasty bump to the back of his head, and then alerted that he was laying on his back. On the floor. And Bumblebee was staring anxiously down at him, slapping his cheek to revive him into consciousness. He could only grin as he sat, then stood up, clasping her hand in both of his.  
"You know what? I feel _great_ now."

He patted her shoulder, then left; apparently, he'd patched the mic problem sometime between when he'd blacked out and re-awakened.

But nooooo, there was no rest for the weary. His camera materializing again in his grasp, some strange inner compass directed Beast Boy to a grimy community center some miles south. He mugged some poor, innocent kid for a subway token, then cruised his way over to his destination.

He found himself next in a spacious, equally dingy room full of folding chairs, those in turn full of pretty much every petty villain he'd ever encountered, plus Cyborg.

"Will I lose my dignity?"

"Will someone care?"  
Beast Boy's head whipped around from speaker to speaker, his eyes finally meeting Cyborg's non-bionic one. The robotic teen shook his head slightly, letting Beast Boy know that he didn't like the situation any more than he did, but there was nothing he could do about it.

All Beast Boy seemed to be able to do was wind his stupid camera. Plasmus and Cinderblock joined in with Overload and Mumbo Jumbo, and were soon joined by the raspy voices of everyone else in the folding chair circle.

"Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?"

_God, I hope so_, Beast Boy thought to himself, then was horrified to hear himself echoing the others as they launched into a round. _Oh, God, will the torment never __**end**__!_

Then they were all joined by Roger, and as soon as they could, the three Titans jumped the first subway back home. 


End file.
